


Catch Me When I Fall

by embarrassingresultofmyfreetime



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anyways, Crowley is a supportive partner, Established Relationship, I dont want to spoil the plot too much just read it and you'll see, I'm not sure if that's trigger warning worthy but I wanted to mention it, KIND OF FALLEN it's self explanatory you'll see, Redeemed Crowley, WARNING: Mentions of burn scars and mild violence from 'The Fall', ace characters, fallen-aziraphale, fluff mostly sorta, it's all about the plot, kind of you'll see, personal hc idea that demons can not fly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 11:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21445327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embarrassingresultofmyfreetime/pseuds/embarrassingresultofmyfreetime
Summary: No longer wanting to live in fear of Heaven, Aziraphale decides to take matters into his own hands.Meanwhile, Crowley finds this out earlier than Aziraphale had expected and races to ensure his angel's safety.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 200





	Catch Me When I Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by Magismol-v 's "Icarus [Good Omens Animatic]". I've watched it like 50 times and I 100% recommend checking out their work it's amazing!!

Crowley could feel a shift in the world around him the moment Aziraphale's presence fadded from his senses.

Over the course of their long relationship, Crowley had become- in short- attuned to Aziraphale's specific essense.  
Detecting other celestial beings wasn't something demons could feel by nature, but Aziraphale's mere presense on Earth radiated such a strong feeling into the world around him that Crowley had grown used to it in the way humans grew used to their heartbeats. Crowley could pick up on it anytime he chose, but for the most part it was whitenoise in the background of his life. The angel's essence was always there, sometimes stronger than others- but always calming and ever-present.

Seeing as Aziraphale was one of the only immortal entities to live on the Earth in the last 6000 years, the mark he left with every step had become a well-worn path of calming, nearly-undetectable energy that humans could only pick up on in the subtlest of ways. They could feel the love of his bookshop the moment they entered or would spare the angel a friendly glance as they passed him without knowing why. It was faint, but it lingered all through the London air without anyone ever realizing why. Even as Crowley watered his plants, he could feel its faint waves radiating from the bookshop.

And in a single, unpredictable instant- it was gone.

Crowley abruptly looked up from the leaf of a rubber plant. For a short time, he was unable to pinpoint what the world was suddenly lacked. It felt like the white noise he had heard all his life had simply- without warning- ceased to be.

He looked around for what had inexplicable changed, he smelled the air, he listened carefully for the song that had- for the first time in 6000 years- stopped playing. He barely knew what the feeling- or lack there of- meant.

In fact, his initial reaction was 'Did Aziraphale feel that?'

All at once, the cold-blooded creature froze in place at the idea of his beloved angel. Crowley felt like he was made of ice, as if his body had ceased to exist to be in that singular moment when he what was missing.

"AZIRAPHALE!" He shouted, disregarding the sound of his plantmister crashing to the floor as he wildly bolted for the door.

He didn't stop a single moment all the while as he raced from the apartment, leapt into his bentley, and maxed out its speedometer on his way to Aziraphale's bookshop.  
Crowley burst in through the doors like a bat out of Hell to find... no one.

The bookshop was perfectly still and completely empty of any life. Even the haze of love that usually hit him like a tidalwave upon entry lacked its usual overwhelming impact.

"Think think think!" He scolded himself, pacing quickly past the long rows of shelves.

"Where did he go... Where could he have gone?!"

His head turned ever so slightly to peer over the angel's cluttered desk.

"A note!"

A note, of course there was a note. It was sitting perfectly squared with Aziraphale's desk and propped up by a now-cold candle. The outside had even been sealed with a bit of wax and an indentation made by Aziraphale's gold ring.

"You overdramatic-" Crowley hissed, snatching up the letter and tearing it open without a hint of hesitation. The writing was beautifully drawn in large, gorgeous calligraphy.

He skimmed the formalities- for he feared time was of the essense- and then read, "Blah blah blah..."

'..._I plan for you to find this letter before our evening dinner plans, for by then, the act should be done. In short, my dearest companion, I am tired of living in the fear cast over me by Heaven's shadow. I have decided to no longer allow them such hold over my person. To that end, I plan to remove from them the only remaining course of action that still ails me. I know you may feel betrayed by my silence on this issue, but I couldn't bare to cause you any more grief over such a personal matter. I hope that, when this is all over, we might yet have that picnic we always spoke of._  
_Your utmost devoted friend,_  
_Aziraphale_'

Crowley could no longer feel neither panic nor fear. He felt nothing but a red hot fire of determination as he burst from the bookshop and sprinted confidently through the street, tucking the letter into the inside pocket of his coat.  
He pulled off his glasses, disgarded them into the nearby seat, and hit the gas.

After a moment, he willed himself to gently close his eyes and kept them closed despite the threatening roar of the Bentley's engine. Any normal driver paying no attention the the road before them would find their trip incredably short lived indeed, but Crowley was no normal driver.

Through his demonic powers, he assured himself safe passage and then reached out his senses for the lingering familiarity of his angel. As he already knew, wherever Aziraphale had gone must have left the faintest of paths and it was one Crowley had discovered how to follow.

He had learned to do this long ago, for anyone who walked past Aziraphale was bound to be affected by him.

Crowley had first picked up on this skill when he was looking for the angel in a crowded city. When passing through a marketplace, the stalls Aziraphale had walked past found their salesmen with an uncharacteristically good mood.

Crowley later realized that Aziraphale's very being radiated a comforting holy presense that not only made people more cheerful, but convinced even the nearby flowers bloom even more vibrantly and the clouds above to part without knowing why.

Crowley followed the path of love and hope that eminated in the angel's wake and even prayed to the Almighty that he would be able to find his dearest and oldest friend safe and happy.

The trail didn't lead Crowley very far.

All at once, the demon found himself driving up a cliffside. When he reached as far as his car could go, he got out and ran up the rest of the flourishing hillside... overlooking the sea.

Crowley could see a man resting against a small tree as he grew near. His heart sank.

In between the pages of the book in his hand that Aziraphale's still body hugged against him was a folded up sheet if paper. It protruded from the pages of the book as if it were a bookmark. However, Crowley's name was lovingly written over the front of the folded page with the words "(in case it all goes pear shaped)" written below it in a smaller font.

Crowley didn't care, he didn't even care that Aziraphale's empty body laid there in the overgrown grass. A soft brease brushed through his white curls and the warm glow of a setting sun bathed over his warm cheek. Even unmoving and empty, Aziraphale had a soft smile on his pink lips.

No. Crowley didn't care. He didn't have time to care. He remained convinced of this even as tears began to build up in the edges of his eyes.

Crowley turned away from the beautiful view and hurried over to Aziraphale's figure. He didn't hesitate as he carelessly tossed the book aside and into the wild grass. Crowley laid his own body down in the angel's arms and let himself fall limp against him. He curled up so close that the side of his face was hidden by the lapel of the angel's coat that Crowley's right hand was locked onto. He breathed in his comfort one last time-

And then he did something demons really weren't supposed to do.

For you see, the path Crowley had been following continued beyond Aziraphale's human form. It was faint, but Crowley knew it was there. The path had, in a word, shifted. It undoubtably continued, but in a way that only an angel's unrestricted soul could create.

Crowley closed his eyes once again... and subsiquently opened them in a form unable to be understood by any human's eyes. He stretched himself out for a moment. His double pairs of enormous black wings reached out like miles of night sky and his snake-like features blended over his human-like ones. After a few seconds, he was able to pull himself back in and took on something of a ghost-like resemblance of his human form, with the addition of a more practical version of his wings.

He stepped up to the cliff's edge.

He allowed his wings to rest in a form comprehensible to his current plane of existance. They were wider than he was tall but much more practical than their true forms. They weren't unlike a bird's, in this form. Large, sleek, black feathers coated them as he layed the heavy limbs along the grass behind him. The feathers sprawled out to either side.

Something abruptly caught his bright, golden and worry-filled eyes.

The very feeling of Aziraphale that Crowley had been chasing suddenly felt like nothing but a brease compared to the hurricane of emotions threatening to cripple him at the sight. It was Aziraphale, brusting through the clouds and falling from the Heavens.

His beaming, white wings burst through the clouds and his body was back-first, the way Crowley remembered the other now-demons had looked in The Fall. A sense of dread began to wash over him when he was struck by the strangest detail.

The angel looked okay.

Aziraphale's tripple pairs of enormous white wings caught the air before he hit the water and the celestial form of the angel glided away unharmed.

"Aziraphale!" Crowley shouted from the very edge of the cliff. So close to the edge in fact, that the dirt underfoot softly crumbled away.

Crowley wanted nothing more than to leap and fly out to Aziraphale, but there was a secret about demons he had never been willing to admit. Not only had the words never left his tongue, but he had never been able to confront the idea even in the safety of his own mind. Not in 6000 years had he ever told another soul- but it was, very simply, that demons could not fly.

Yes, they could crawl their way up from Hell to Earth's surface. And, yes, they could even take the designated pathways up to Heaven set up by angels for other angels- but demons COULD NOT _FLY_ by definition.

Their wings had been ruined in the fall.

Every last one on every last demon.

Before the fall, a single, gentle beat of Crowley's heavenly wings could have blown away the Earth's atmosphere easier than a kid could blow out a candle if he chose to do so. However, ever since he became a demon they had never since been able to lift his body off of the ground.

The painful display of damaging the wings of cast-out angels was a public show, but the loss of their ability to fly was the true punishment. It was a physical manifestation of their exile from Heaven. No demon could ever again rise to Heaven, a painful representation and reminder that demons could never again become angels.

Unforgivable was their very nature and they were not allowed to forget it.

"Crowley!" A hundred-thousand blue eyes turned to look upon him.

"You weren't supposed to be here yet!" Aziraphale snapped in a mix of surprise and embarrassment.

The angel's beaming form shadowed Crowley from the golden hour of the setting sun yet bathed him in Aziraphale's own glow as his form neared the cliff's edge. The angel stayed just out of reach, floating high above the water.

"You don't have to fall, Aziraphale!" Crowley shouted desperately. He would be in tears if he could remember how to cry in his current form,

"You don't have to fall! It's not freedom, Aziraphale! I'm begging you, all it will do is hurt you!"

"Please understand... I have to. I'm tired of being scared!" Aziraphale called back, his voice shaking the very orbit of Earth, "I'm tired of being scared that they'll come for me! That they'll cast me out too! I won't let them have that power over me! I won't let them cast me out! They... they can't cast me out of I do it myself."

The fear in his voice fell away to confidence and then suddenly, anxiousness, "I... I can beat them to it. I'm practicing... Crowley. I don't want to be scared when I fall."

Crowley wanted to argue, but clearly Aziraphale had made his choice and there were very few things in the universe that could change Aziraphale's mind. Not to mention, Crowley didn't have another 6000 years to convince him otherwise.

"Then..." Crowley made a series of noises but eventually grasped onto a single, perfect thought.

"Then don't fall, angel. Leap. Leap into my arms and don't be scared because I- I'll catch you!"

"I-" Aziraphale prepared to argue his case, but stopped as he comprehended what Crowley had said, "What?" The angel choaked out in surprise.

"I'll catch you, Angel," Crowley promised wholeheartedly, the words softly escaping his lips without the slightest hint of regret nor fear, "I'll catch you right here. You won't fall to Hell but you'll still be fallen from Heaven. You'll have what you want; the other angels won't be able to make you fall a second time!"

Aziraphale shortened the distance between them and let his form close in on his friend. Crowley stepped backwards across the soft, flowing grass and allowed the room for Aziraphale's figure hovered mere inches above it. The angel reached out one of his numerous hands.

"You'll have to find a new nickname for me," Aziraphale scoffed.

"You'll always be an angel to me," Crowley spoke. His words were plain and simple, as if he were stating an undisputable fact.

Aziraphale's form brightened as if to blush. His tone suddenly shifted to concern,

"How do you know that will work? I don't want you in danger."

"I know a great deal about falling, in case you've forgotten," Crowley attempted to joke despite the renewing pain of old scars.

Aziraphale's form grew even brighter with an overwhelming surge of love that was so strong it was nearly painful to be so close to. Crowley felt a complimentary feeling beat against his insides as if it had grown too large and was now desperate to escape the confinds of even this humanoid/demonic blended form. He allowed himself to become his truest and strongest self. His eyes beamed and his scale-covered skin was interrupted only by the large scarring of deep burn wounds.

Despite it, Aziraphale smiled brightly with all three of his faces.

"No sense in waiting," Aziraphale noted cheerfully.

There it was. There was the love Crowley was so used to sensing.

Aziraphale began to turn away but Crowley caught his closest hand before the angel was able to step out of reach.

The true form of a demon touching the true form of an angel felt, to him, like a human touching dry ice and fire at the same time- yet infinately more complex.

Touching Aziraphale baffled his very senses. It was so incredably cold that it felt like he was burning and yet so incredably hot he felt frozen. He didn't know what was happening but he knew that no matter what it felt like, he could survive it. And so he pulled Aziraphale's hands into his own anyways.

"Stay safe, my angel."

Aziraphale returned Crowley's wide, terrified eyes with a confident, determined smile and a simple nod.

"I love you too, Crowley."

Crowley's eyes fell closed as Aziraphale planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

And then suddenly, in a gust of wind he was gone.

Crowley looked up just quick enough to see Aziraphale's powerful figure assend into the clouds.

Crowley stared and he stared and he felt the Earth for any sign of the angel.

There was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He watched the sky each and every long minute- that felt much closer to a year- as the golden sun dripped its beauty into the shimmering sea. It's colors began to paint the sky with a thousand gorgeous shades and yet- even to the demon who took great pride in his creation of supernovas- it might as well been black and white.

The world was empty and he stood perfectly alone.  
The feeling Aziraphale left was nothing more than the longering smell of a great meal already eaten. The Earth was nothing without- and Crowley could think of nothing except for- him.

He didn't know how long it had been, but the sun had nearly completely melted away when a spark of hope shot through Crowley's fragile heart.

He knew each and every star- he had been counting them as they replaced the nearly-gone sun- and there was one out of place. It was a faint dot, but it moved ever so slightly in place.

It grew brighter and faster as it approached. Crowley's heart began to race.

The feeling of Aziraphale returned, slamming into Crowley like a flood as color and feeling returned to his world. It was most definately Aziraphale, but he was falling too fast.

His angel wasn't just falling, Crowley realized; he was crashing. His wings could barely slow his fall as they burnt up against the atmosphere and became torn by wind and debree. Falling into Hell was smooth until you hit the ground. Falling to Earth had to be torture.

Crowley begged that it would pay off in the end.

Crowley was struck by agony as he remembered his own experience and for one brief moment, the pain of it once again shot through him... but there wasn't time for that now. Crowley accessed every shred of power he possessed to slow Aziraphale's fall.

The angel was burning, plummeting through the air, and headed directly for the water below. The impact could kill him, Crowley realized, but his powers... he wasn't enough. He could somewhat alter the angel's trejectory but was failing to slow his decent. Aziraphale's current course would send him crashing directly into the ocean... and he didn't want to think about anything after that.

Crowley summoned every bit of strength, every bit of energy he could possibly contain, all to pull the angel towards him. His own celestial body might be enough to lessen the impact, but he had never been more terrified.  
Aziraphale needed to control his fall but he seemed to be unconcious. He was falling like dead weight.

Crowley cursed Heaven. It had to be their doing that his powers weren't working. He was already reaching exhaustion and it wasn't enough.

Crowley couldn't fly. He couldn't reach. Aziraphale's body was so close and yet, in a moment, there might be nothing left.

"Oh for fuck'sss sssake," Crowley hissed angrily. If the last 6000 years had taught him anything it was persistance.

There was no way he was about to give up now.

The demon stepped back from the edge of the cliff and stood there, completely still. He watched Aziraphale fall.  
He closed his eyes. He felt Aziraphale's presense draw nearer.

"Sssso clossse. Pleassse."

Closer... closer... closer.

And then all at once, something kicked in from deep within him.

Crowley ran- he ran directly off the cliff and forced himself up into the air in one powerful leap of faith. The world around the two of then slowed as Crowley's arms locked in place under Aziraphale's form with perfect timing. Aziraphale's once-white wings now dripped heavily with golden blood and black ash- but Crowley didn't care. He didn't even care that he was destined to fall all over again because the sight of Aziraphale's content expression from safely in his arms made him smile.

And then time resumed.

Crowley flapped his own wings like mad against the inertia of Aziraphale's fall pushing them both downwards.

Crowley knew demon wings were as good as nonexistant when it came to flying, but he beat them furiously against the air regardless. Moving them in this way felt like trying to run after having his legs pinned down for days but he override the pain of it with his own willpower. He was determined to slow them down at least a little before the inevitable crash.

He braced himself for impact- overriding every muscle and cell he had for the single demand not to let go of Aziraphale no matter what and then... it never came.

Crowley's wings continued to beat and he glanced down to see that they were no longer falling, nor were his feet touching the ground.

Crowley hadn't even noticed as his wings lifted him up into the air, Aziraphale's exhausted body gently cradled over his arms. He looked down to see the water below becoming more distant and up to see his beloved stars drawing nearer.

All at once he could fly- or more specifically, he felt weightless. He felt like when he had been in the vast darkness of space creating the night sky all over again.

Crowley smiled, relieved and content beyond words.

Despite the sky's call, he found the cliff's edge with his foot and lowered himself back onto the earth. He returned Aziraphale's no-longer-Heavenly-ruled-form to his human body. Crowley then quickly tossed himself down into his own human body. With his overwhelming fear subsiding, exhaustion was quickly taking over.

When Crowley woke up again, it was nearly dawn.

The dark of night was becoming a deep blue and color was beginning to return to the world.

Aziraphale's arms were still protectively around him.

"Angel?" Crowley turned to look up at his face.

Aziraphale's blue eyes opened gently and his expression was as warmhearted as ever.

"Thank you, my dear," Aziraphale rubbed his eyes with a soft smile, "I suppose we should assess the damage."

"Does it hurt?" Crowley asked with deep concern. He did his best to ignore how sore his arms, back, and wings felt with every movement.

"It aches," Aziraphale moaned sleepily.

Aziraphale leaned forwards and unfurled his wings.

At first, for a brief moment, Crowley wasn't sure what he was looking at. The very base of the wings were still white... but then about halfway out to either side they darkened into a deep black. A few white feathers even remained to cut through the darkness and make the wings resemble a gorgeous night sky. The more he stared, the more he realized that the black feathers weren't even a true black. Depending on the lighting, they were more deep blues and purples than a true black.

Crowley scrambled backwards and tripped over his own feet, falling back into the grass in surprise.

"My dear?" Aziraphale asked with a breaking heart, "Is it that bad?"

"N- they- they're-" Crowley scrambled, desperately searching for the right words.

Aziraphale nervously turned his head to look over his own wings and froze. It took him a long moment to fully process the sight. When he finally spoke, it was with great ambivilance.

"They're... not black. I thought they would look like yours," Aziraphale observed, not yet sure own to react and still dazed by the pain of it all.

Crowley, panicking, unfurled his own wings.

They were no longer black either.

The very bones and small feathers over them protruding from his back were still as dark as space itself, but the edges faded into a purple-blue and then suddenly, white that looked more like gold in the light. Not unlike the very edge of dawn.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale exclaimed, "Crowley, my love, you've been redeamed."

Crowley blinked blankly. "And you're... Angel, you're...."

"My dear, we're neither," the somewhat-angel's mouth twisted into a wide grin, "We're on our own side."

Aziraphale slowly stood up and held out a hand to a very overwhelmed Crowley. Aziraphale pulled Crowley onto his feet and then into his arms. They wrapped each of their wings around each other. Together, their overlapping wings created their two original sets and somehow something even more.

"We're on our own side," Crowley repeated, too stunned to do much else.

All at once, he began to cry.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, Angel!"

He sobbed heavily, hiding his face into the front of Aziraphale's coat.

Aziraphale simply held him close and ran one hand through Crowley's hair with a warm smile.

"I am terribly sorry, my dear. But... thank you for trusting me. And thank you for catching me."

"It's... it's like that story." Crowley mumbled into the lapel of his coat when he finally began to calm down.

"What story?" Aziraphale asked with a calm, soothingly tone.

"The guy who made wings and flew closer to the sun when everyone told him not to. Angel, you're my sun and I'd fall every day since we met just to be closer to you."

Aziraphale chuckled, his body shaking in a gentle, good-humored way.

"Yes, that was definately the take away of that story."

Crowley smiled despite the fresh tears still rolling down his cheeks. Of course Crowley knew the story, but he liked the version that made Aziraphale laugh far more.

**Author's Note:**

> I totally wrote the first draft procrastinating studying for a math test but it turned out pretty good so here you go lol.  
Please don't forget to kudos if you enjoyed this and feel free to comment and tell me what you think. I really appreciate the feedback.


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